A Regular Little Romeo
by bexlynne
Summary: "Speakin' of names, what's yours?" He hesitated. "Like ya said, just call me Romeo." A companion to That's What Brothers Are For. A Romeo and Race series, starting with Romeo joining the newsies and ending... well, who knows when it will end? Cover art by me!
1. It Started With A Nickel

_Autumn, 1894_

* * *

"Hey! You!"

Nicholas looked up sharply, seeing a blue-coated police officer starting toward him. Without a second thought, he took off running down the street. The shrill notes of a whistle sounded behind him, and he pushed himself to run faster, to dodge the people, to block out the shouts and lose the bull who was on his tail. Finally, a good six blocks from where he had started, he stopped to rest, collapsing against a red brick store front to catch his breath.

 _Breathe,_ he reminded himself. _Don't think. Just breathe._

"Don't think" had become something of a mantra to him over the past week. If he started thinking for too long, his thoughts would undoubtedly turn to the Refuge. Nick shook his head vehemently. He already saw that place every night when he closed his eyes. At least during the day he had some control over his mind.

With a sigh, Nick got wearily to his feet. Most people didn't like street kids hanging around in front of their stores. Those were the people who would just as soon call the bulls on him as give him the time of day.

 _Don't think. Just breathe. Keep moving._

As he started on his way, a flash of silver caught his eye. Was that...? No, it couldn't be. His breath catching in his throat, Nick picked the coin up out of the dust. It was nickel. A real, honest-to-goodness nickel. Nick sat down on the step, thoughts of the bulls pushed from his head. There were so many things a nickel could buy! A few pieces of candy, a hot lunch, a pair of socks. The possibilities were endless.

He was trying to make a decision when a group of boys ran by, jumping over barrels and hollering on their way to work. Nick recognized them as newsies from the _World._ He had seen them before, hawking ridiculous sounding headlines on every corner in Manhattan.

An idea struck him like lightning, and Nick almost smiled. What was there to stop him from joining them? He could buy a nickel's worth of papers, sell them during the day, and double his money by nightfall.

Pleased with himself, Nick fell into the back of the line and passed through the gates of the distribution center.

* * *

Nick's shoulders slumped in defeat. It was past noon, and he still had nine of his ten papers left. At this rate, he would lose money rather than gain.

"Hey, kid," an unknown voice said, startling him out of his thoughts.

Nick jumped, dropping his papers and whirling around to face the stranger. He stood face-to-face with another newsie, maybe eleven or twelve years old. The kid had a half-empty canvas news bag hanging off his shoulder, and, in spite of his age, had an unlit cigar in his mouth.

"You'se goin' about it all wrong," he said, bending over to pick up Nick's dropped papers. "You'se new at this, I can tell. Sellin' papes- it's a game. Like poker. Ya gotta bluff a little, go all in, but first you'se gotta find an angle."

At Nick's blank expression, he elaborated further.

"Ya see that kid over there?"

Nick moved a tentative step closer, craning his neck to see where the stranger was pointing. A small, blond-haired boy with a crutch was selling papers a block down the street.

"That's Crutchie," the kid said. "He's been dealt a bad hand, so ta speak, what with his gimp leg an all, but he's turned it into a tool for sellin'. The limp itself pulls fifty papes a week. And that guy over there?" He nodded across the square to a tall, gangly kid with a patch over one eye. "That's Kid Blink. He's new here, but he milks that eyepatch for all it's worth. And me? I sell down at Sheepshead." He grinned. "The boys call me Race, since I'm at the tracks so much."

If Nick had had anything to say, he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise. "What's that got ta do with me?" he asked.

Race stared at him like he had two heads. "It means you'se gotta find what work for you," he said. "Then you're set. Ya can't go wrong with a pretty goil. Even if ya mess up, they'll still buy a pape outta sympathy."

Nick's head was still stumbling to catch up with the sheer _amount_ of words the older boy spoke when a stylishly dressed young lady strolled past them.

"There's your chance!" Race told him, handing him a paper and giving him a push.

Nick stumbled forward into her path. "Hello, miss," he said, taking off his cap and sweeping a bow.

She laughed in amusement, spurring his confidence.

"Care ta make a humble newsboy's day and buy a paper?" he asked.

"Aren't you adorable?" she said. "I would love to buy a paper." Reaching into her coin purse, she handed him a nickel.

"Your change is four cents," Nick said. "But that smile's worth a million, miss," he couldn't resist adding.

The lady's face lit up in a smile. "You just made my day," she said. "Keep the change."

Nick's dark eyes lit up. Handing her her paper, he ran back to Racetrack. "A nickel!" he shouted. "Race, I made a nickel!"

The Italian grinned. "I saw," he said. "Way ta go, kid. You'se a regular little Romeo."

Nick bounced up and down excitedly. "Gimme another paper," he said. "I wanna try again."

Race handed eight papers over with a smile. "Have at it, kid," he said. "Oh, and another thing."

Nick turned around, waiting expectantly.

"Us newsies call 'em papes," Race said.

Nick's dark eyebrows knit together. "Am I a newsie?" he asked.

"Yeah," Race said with a shrug. "Ya sell papes, don't ya?"

Nick broke into a smile- his first since the Refuge. "Yeah," he said. "I do, don't I?"

* * *

"I made thirty-five cents!" Nick said, holding the coins tight in his hand. "I'se never had this much money- ever!"

Race grinned. "Well, if you'se willin' ta part with a nickel, ya can have a bed to sleep in tonight."

Nick tilted his head, thinking. "Is that where the newsies go every night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Race said. "We live at the Lodge House on Duane Street. None of us have folks, so we pay a nickel a night ta stay there."

Nick stared down at the coins in his hand. "I don't have folks, neither," he said slowly. He fished a nickel out of the pile and turned to Race. "Who do I give this to?"

Race's grin grew even wider. "Come with me," he said. "I'll introduce ya to Mistah Kloppman- and Butch. He's our leader."

Nick quickened his pace to a trot to keep up. "His name is Butch?"

Race glanced back at him. "Nah, we just call him that," he said. "He was a butcher's boy 'fore he joined the newsies. Say, speakin' of names, what's yours?"

Nick hesitated. _Don't think. Just breathe. Keep moving. Don't answer any questions._

"Just call me Romeo," he said with a grin.

* * *

 **(A/N): Here it is! Chapter one of my new Romeo and Race series! I was blown away by how many of you liked my first story, That's What Brothers Are For. A lot of you requested more brotherly one-shots, but I thought this would be better. I'll be diving into the backstories of these two a little more, as well as showing some of the relationship between them.**

 **I would love it if you reviewed! Thoughts, comments, likes, dislikes, constructive criticism, requests- anything. (Especially requests. I don't want to run out of ideas.) Literally just let me know that you read it and you liked it. Feedback from you guys keeps me going. :)**

 **Read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	2. A Little Game of Poker

_Autumn, 1994_

* * *

"Today was a good sellin' day," Race said as the walked up the stairs. "You'se a good luck charm, kid. Can't wait for tomorra."

"Tomorrow?" Romeo repeated.

"Yeah," Race said. "You'se a newsie now. Ya sell papes. Carryin' the banner!"

He pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, and Romeo got his first glimpse of the bunk room. It was exactly what it sounded like- a big room full of bunk beds, with a dozen or so boys lounging around, some talking, some playing cards.

An older boy near the door stood up as they entered. "Geez, Racetrack," he said. "Give the kid a chance ta get a word in edgewise."

Romeo had to his head back to look the boy in the face. He was six feet tall and built like a brick wall. His shaggy black hair was just a little too long, and he kept pushing it back out of his eyes. Intimidated, Romeo shrunk back behind Race.

"Heya, Butch!" Race said, spit shaking with the older boy enthusiastically.

Butch laughed, returning the shake and clapping Race on the back. "And who's this?" he asked, turning to Romeo. "Ya bring home another stray?"

Romeo felt color rise to his cheeks. "I ain't a stray!" he said defensively. "I'm Romeo. I sell papes, so I get ta stay here... right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Butch acknowledged. "But ya gotta prove yourself first. Why'd ya start sellin' papes?"

Romeo paused, searching for his answer. "I found a nickel in the street," he said. "I thought I could double it by sellin' papes. I did, too."

Butch crouched down to his level, looking impressed. "Ya found some money in the street, and ya decided ta try and double it? Didn't spend it on candy, or nothin' like that?"

Romeo shook his head. "See?" he said, holding out his handful of coins.

Butch looked him up and down, nodding appraisingly. "Alright," he said. "Ya can stay. Welcome aboard, kid."

* * *

"Hey, Romeo!" someone called. A brown-haired kid, the one who always stuck close to Crutchie. What was his name again? Jack?

"We'se gonna play some poker," Jack said. "Wanna join?"

Romeo perked up. "Sure."

He wasn't the best at cards, but he was a good bluffer. There were three other boys playing- Jack, Race, and Kid Blink. They each tossed a penny in the pot, and the game began.

Almost immediately, Jack gave up. "I fold," he announced, tossing down his cards and moving to sit by Crutchie. They soon lost interest in the game, whispering back and forth together.

Romeo glanced up. He had a decent hand- three eights and a jack.

 _Now let's_ _see how the others are doin'_.

Kid Blink was grinning, but that could be a ploy. Race's face was set in a neutral expression, harder to read. He added a nickel to the pot, and Kid Blink did the same.

Romeo hesitated a second before counting out five pennies. Allowing a small grin, Racetrack raised the stakes by a dime. Kid Blink folded, muttering something about a bad selling day.

"Aw, whatsamatter, Blinky Boy?" Race called. "Ya quittin' already?"

"Don't call me that," Kid Blink retorted, knocking Race's cap off.

Race laughed before turning to Romeo. "What about you, kid?" he asked.

 _Time to bluff._

Romeo added two nickels to the growing pile in the middle. The silence seemed to stretch, until finally Race threw down his cards. "Okay, kid," he said. "Guess ya win."

Romeo's face split into a smile. "I won!" he said, his pride soaring.

Race grinned good-naturedly, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "You'se tellin' me," he said. "Ya said ya didn't know how ta play."

"I lied," Romeo said matter-of-factly.

Jack laughed out loud. "Ya found someone who can give ya a run for your money, Race," he said.

"Oughta help your ego some," Crutchie added with a smile.

"Hey, quit it!" Race said, acting hurt. Then he turned back to Romeo. "C'mon, kid, spill. How'd ya get so good at bluffin'?"

"Ya don't make it through a year on the streets without lyin' some," Romeo said, counting the coins and dropping them in his pocket.

Jack leaned forward. "Ya were on the streets for a year?"

Romeo felt a sudden sense of unease. Had he said the wrong thing?

"Good for you, kid," Kid Blink said, voicing what everyone was thinking. "What are ya, eight? After that, sellin' papes'll be nothin'."

"Like you would know," Race scoffed.

"Maybe I do!" Kid Blink countered, getting to his feet. "You don't know me, Racetrack! You don't know where I been!"

"Who're you yellin' at?" Race demanded, clenching his fists.

Luckily, Butch caught was wind of what was happening and put a stop to it before a fight broke out. "C'mon, boys, settle down," he warned. "You make a mess in here and it'll be me you'se a-tanglin' with."

Both boys backed down pretty quickly after that.

"All of you'se better be gettin' ta bed," the leader said, glancing out the window. "I'll see ya in the mornin'." Jamming his hat on his head, he clattered off downstairs.

"Where's he goin'?" Romeo whispered to Race.

"Aw, he's goin' out ta meet his goil," Race said offhandedly. "He won't be back 'til late. C'mon, you can have the bunk below mine."

* * *

"Romeo!" Race called through the door. "You'se gonna make us late!"

"Comin'!" Romeo called, appearing fully-dressed in the doorway.

"Finally!" Race said. "C'mon. If we hurry, the nuns'll still have some food left."

"The nuns?" Romeo questioned.

"Yeah," Race said as they joined the other boys in the street. "The nuns. They hand out bread and coffee for all the kids. You musta seen 'em, if you was on the streets."

Romeo shook his head. "I ain't from 'Hattan," he said. "I usta live in the Bronx."

"The Bronx," Race repeated. "How'd ya get here?"

 _Don't think. Don't answer questions._

"Long story," Romeo said finally.

Race sent him a sideways glance and decided to change the subject. "Let's get some food."

The two of them each got a hunk of bread -only slightly stale- and a tin mug of lukewarm coffee.

Romeo wolfed his down, and was done before Race had swallowed two bites.

"Slow down, kid," Race remarked. "When did ya eat last?"

"Yesterday morning," Romeo said, handing his empty cup back to one of the nuns.

Race's eyes widened. "Here," he said, handing Romeo what was left of his bread. "And we'se stoppin' by Jacobi's later for a real lunch. We made enough yesterday, and Heaven knows ya need one."

Romeo didn't argue. "Thanks, Race," he said around a mouthful of bread.

Race threw an arm around his new friend's shoulders. "Let's get our papes and get out there," he said. "You keep usin' that charm of yours on the ladies and I bet ya you can push thirty papes a day, easy."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hello, lovely people! Thank you so much to AutumnBelle101 for following this and my other story, Santa Fe (which you should totally check out, btw) and to Obsessed 2k17 for reviewing! The rest of you should follow their example... It's my birthday tomorrow, and I would love nothing more than to wake up to lots of notifications and reviews! Also, just for the record, I highly doubt that I'll be updating this often in the future. I'm just posting these as I finish them, and I'm pretty excited about this story right now. Please leave reviews with what you'd like to see in future chapters! Thanks, y'all!**

 **Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	3. Bruises and Secrets

_Autumn, 1894_

* * *

Race leaned back in his chair, grinning. Romeo was devouring his sandwich while talking so much it was a wonder he didn't choke. Quite a change from the shy, quiet kid he had picked up yesterday.

"And then I told her she had the most beautiful eyes in New Yawk, and she gave me a dime!" the kid was saying. "Ten whole cents!"

Gesturing excitedly, he reached for the salt shaker. The motion caused his sleeve to ride up, revealing a dark, hand-shaped bruise on his forearm.

Leaning forward, Race grabbed the younger boy's wrist, stopping him from withdrawing his arm. "Rome, what happened?" he asked, sounding concerned.

Romeo tried to pull away. "That ain't from today," he said. "It's old. I... I was in a fight."

Race reluctantly let go of his wrist, then lightly touched the bruising around the dark-haired boy's eye. He hadn't thought much about it yesterday, but now he wondered. "Ya get this in the fight, too?"

"I lost," Romeo said simply. He took a big bite of his sandwich to avoid further conversation.

 _Don't think. Don't answer questions._

Race's eyes narrowed. He had watched Romeo play poker last night. He knew his pattern of bluffing. He saw that same pattern now. Romeo was lying. With a shrug, he forced himself to be indifferent. He disliked being lied to, but the kid was allowed to have his secrets. "Let's get out and sell while there's still daylight left," he said.

"Carryin' the banner!" Romeo said, jumping down from his chair.

Race had to grin at his enthusiasm. "Same as earlier, 'kay?" he said. "I'm goin' off this way, but I'll be close enough ta hear if ya yell for me."

Romeo nodded, and the boys parted ways.

* * *

A shrill whistle sounded off to his right, and Romeo froze with a paper still clutched in his hand.

 _Don't think. Just breathe. Don't think. Just breathe. Don't think-_

"Romeo!" a voice said near his ear.

Romeo jumped. "Race!"

The Italian was watching him closely. "Ya gonna give the guy his pape, or just stand there starin'?"

Rome's cheeks flushed. "Right. Sorry." He handed the man his paper, slightly wrinkled from being held so tightly, and accepted a penny in return.

"You okay?" Race asked. "You'se all pale, and you'se shakin'." He glanced in the direction Romeo had been staring, his gaze falling on a blue-coated police officer dragging a young boy off somewhere by his collar.

What was it Romeo had said? _Ya don't make it though a year on the streets without lyin' some._

"Romeo, listen ta me," he said, taking the younger boy by the shoulders. "You'se a newsie now. This right here?" He held up his empty canvas bag. He must have sold out early and decided to seek Romeo out. "This is like a badge ta get ya anywhere in the city. So long as you'se not stealin' or nothin', the bulls won't stop ya. Got that?"

Romeo nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice coming out a little shaky. "I..." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I'se only got three papes left. Lemme sell these, and we can head back ta the Lodge House."

Race nodded. "Works for me," he said, finding a park bench to sit on. He stuck a cigar in his mouth, but didn't light it. He was too busy watching Romeo. The kid was like one of those dime novels Jack liked to read. Not one of the western ones, a mystery. Race's face shifted into a grin. He liked mysteries.

* * *

"Time ta get up!" Butch shouted from the doorway.

Romeo started awake, sitting up and nearly hitting his head on the bed above him.

"C'mon, boys," Butch was saying with a grin. "Get up and seize the day! We got papes ta sell!"

Romeo crawled out of bed, grabbing his clothes. He paused for a second to watch Butch, remembering what Race had told him about the Manhattan leader. He used to be a butcher's boy, hence the nickname. He was only sixteen, but he looked older, making it harder to sell. Even so, he sold ninety papes a day, no matter the headline, the most out of anyone in the Lodge House. The boys said he had a girl, one he snuck out to meet every night. "As if we don't know what he's doin'," Jack had snorted, sounding much older than his twelve years.

Heading into the washroom, Romeo grinned. The fearless Manhattan leader was dunking a still-drowsy Kid Blink's head in the washtub. "Get dressed, ya bummers!" he laughed, passing Romeo on his way out.

"Someone's in a hurry," Jack piped up. "Goin' ta meet a special goil, are we?"

Butch pointed at him. "Watch it, Kelly, unless you want a soakin' next." His face split into a grin and he gestured to Kid Blink, who was now very much awake and drying himself off. "Get it? A soakin'?" Several boys threw towels at him as he ducked out of the room, his laughter carrying up the stairs.

Romeo washed his face and used the bathroom, taking his own sweet time until he was the only one in the washroom. He was in the process of changing, his back to the door, when Race came in.

"Kid, what's takin' ya so long? We gotta..." He trailed off, staring at Romeo's bare back. An ugly mess of deep purple bruises and cuts still tipped with dried blood stained the younger boy's pale skin.

"What happened ta you?"Race asked, a touch of horror in his voice.

Romeo whirled around to face him, pulling his shirt over his head quickly. "A... a fight," he said lamely.

Race shook his head. "Don't even bother lyin' this time," he said. "Ya don't get bruises like that in a fight! And not some back-alley soakin', neither. Rome, what happened?"

Romeo opened and closed his mouth, searching for something to say. "I was in the Refuge," he said finally.

Race's eyes widened. "The Refuge? Kid, when was this?"

"They let me out ten days ago, I think," Romeo said, avoiding the older boy's gaze. "C'mon, let's go get breakfast."

He started for the door, but Race stopped him. "How long they keep ya there?"

"A month," Romeo said. "Race, I gotta go sell. Let's go."

"Fine," Race relented. "We'se gonna talk about this later, though, right?"

"Yeah, okay," Romeo said, heading downstairs.

* * *

Romeo glanced up as Race came into the bunk room. "Where'd ya sell today?" he asked. "I looked, but I didn't see ya."

"I went back ta Sheepshead," Race responded, sitting on the bottom bunk beside Romeo. "Thought it was best ta give ya some space."

"Thanks," Romeo said, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. The other boys were starting to get back, but he ignored them. They would be too busy with their own games, discussions, and fights to pay Race and Romeo any mind. "I know you'se got questions, so ask 'em," he said finally.

Race hesitated, trying to find the right way to phrase his question. "What were ya in for?" he asked at last.

Romeo lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I got caught pickin' someone's pocket."

Race's brows furrowed. "Kids on the streets pick pockets all the time," he said. "That wouldn't get ya a month in the Refuge."

"You're right," Romeo agreed. "But I messed up. I picked Snyder's pocket."

Race let out a low whistle through his teeth. Romeo acknowledged him with a nod and pressed on.

"I had stayed in the Bronx up 'til then. I knew the area there, and it was home. But he dragged me off ta the Refuge in Manhattan- here. It... it was bad, Race. I like people. You'se seen me sellin' papes. Ya know that. But in that place, I was all on my own. I hear Jack tell stories 'bout sharin' a bed with three or four other boys, but it wasn't like that. Not for me, anyway. Jack's right about Snyder, Race. He's a spider. He knows howta get in your head, how ta make ya feel like you'se nothing. That was worse than gettin' beat up. Anyone can throw a couple punches, y'know? But I'se never met another man like Snyder, and I hope I never will."

He sounded so weary, like he had lived a long time. "I remember this one night," he said. His eyes were fastened on his fingers, tracing patterns on the bed. "I was layin' on my bed, and I could see the moon through the window. The window was _right there,_ just a few feet off, and I couldn't reach it. They beat me up so bad I couldn't walk to the window, Race. I couldn't _stand."_ His voice broke, and his face crumpled. Just as he had sounded old and world-weary before, now he sounded young... so, so young.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Race pulled Romeo into a hug. The younger boy melted into his embrace.

 _Don't think. Just breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

Race didn't know what to do. So, he did what he did best. He started to talk.

"I joined the newsies when I was 'bout nine," he said. "I lived with my family 'fore that. Ya ever meet an Italian family? Crazy bunch. I'm the only one who's allowed ta say that, though."

Romeo didn't move from his spot, his face still hidden in the older boy's shirtsleeve, but Race could tell he was listening.

 _Don't think. Breathe and listen to Race._

"My nonna was the best cook there ever was," Racetrack continued. "And she didn't let no one else in her kitchen. She was the sweetest little old lady, but she had a mean streak in her."

Romeo shifted positions, his big brown eyes peering up at Race. "What happened to her?"

"She... well, died," Race said. "My folks, too, right afta her. Factory fire."

"Do ya miss 'em?" Romeo asked.

"My folks?" Race said. "Yeah, I miss 'em." His voice had lost the sarcastic edge to it and was uncharacteristically soft.

"I miss mine, too," Romeo said in a low voice.

 _No, no, no,_ Race thought. _This wasn't s'posed ta make him more sad!_

"Y'know what, Romeo?" he said, twisting to face him. "We'se can be our own family. Brothers, you and me. Whaddaya say?"

A smile spread across Romeo's face. "I'd like that."

* * *

Butch crept up the stairs, avoiding the one that creaked. For such a big guy, he was surprisingly adept and sneaking into places. Like his own Lodge House when he had stayed out after curfew.

Undressing in the dark, he tossed his shirt in the sink to soak. His Elizabeth had left a lipstick stain on the collar, and he knew if the boys caught sight of _that_ he would never hear the end of it. With a wry grin, the Manhattan leader tiptoed into the bunk room, trying not to disturb the sleeping boys. His bed was near the end, close to Race and the new kid.

Speaking of Race, where was he? The top bunk was empty. Crouching down, Butch caught a glimpse of Race and Romeo, both asleep on the bottom bunk. "Looks like you'se fittin' in just fine," he whispered to the sleeping Romeo.

A smile spread across his face. "G'night, boys."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey guys! This chapter is on the longer side, but I think it was worth it. Shoutout to Sheila Prior, who requested I write my take on Romeo's time in the Refuge.**

 **GUESS WHAT? My brother got me the Newsies movie for my birthday! I love him, he's the best. I guess that's what brothers are for. :3**

 **I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Let me know what you think of Romeo's time in the Refuge in a review, and what you think about Butch! He's not super important, just an OC I created just for this story. I didn't think it was realistic for Jack to be leading Manhattan at the age of twelve. We can't all be Spot Conlon, unfortunately.**

 **Don't forget to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	4. Nightmares

_Autumn, 1894_

* * *

"Get up, kid!"

Butch hoisted Romeo over his shoulder, headed for the washroom.

"No, no!" Romeo protested. "I'm up! Look, I'm up."

Butch set him down, grinning. "Okay," he said. "But only 'cause you'se the new kid. Hey, Kelly!" he called, catching sight of Jack still in bed. "Get your lazy butt outta bed! Carryin' the banner!"

Romeo couldn't help but laugh as the leader made his rounds, greeting, waking, and teasing his boys, always with a smile on his face. After a few days in the Lodge House he was getting used to Butch's older brother routine. All the boys were like that, really. The older ones teased the younger ones and vice versa, but no one else was allowed to lay a finger on them. Butch himself had gotten into dozens of fights defending his boys. Race's announcement that he and Romeo were brothers was not an uncommon one. Jack and Crutchie were practically inseparable. Crutchie and Race teased each other every day getting ready. Yes, there were lots of brothers in the Lodge House.

* * *

"Whaddaya think 'bout today?" Romeo asked as he and Jack entered the distribution center. "Good sellin' day?"

"Geez, kid, lemme read the headline first," Jack responded with a grin. Even though he was only twelve, Jack was widely known for making a headline out of anything and selling his load of papes no matter what. As the headline was written on the blackboard, he made a big show of examining the sun, checking the wind, and surveying up and down the street.

"Good sellin' day," he announced finally. "Seventy papes."

As Romeo bought his usual thirty he squinted up at the board, trying to make out the headline. He wasn't the best reader, but given enough time he could figure it out. There was a big word in today's headline, though.

 _New im... immi...?_

"New immigration building constructed," Race read loudly from across the courtyard. "What a snoozer! We'd do better makin' up our own."

 _Immigration_. That was it.

Romeo glanced up in time to see Race send him a quick wink. A slow smile spread across his face. It was nice to know that somebody had his back.

"Fifty papes for Crutchie?" the Italian said, sending the blonde-haired boy a grin. "C'mon, we both know the limp sells half of those."

"That ain't true, Race, I am a delight!" Crutchie said stubbornly.

Race laughed, throwing his arm around his friend's neck. "Ya ready, Romeo?" he called.

Romeo slung his bag over his shoulder. "Ready as I'll ever be. Carryin' the banner?"

Race grinned back. "Carryin' the banner."

They had fallen into a routine over the past week or so. Romeo would walk with Race as far as the Brooklyn Bridge before heading off to his own selling spot in Central Park. They would meet for lunch at Jacobi's with the other boys, sell the rest of the day's papes, and meet each other at the Lodge House at sundown.

"I heard ya wake up last night," Race said briefly.

Romeo glanced up. "Huh? Oh, yeah." He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'se been havin' these dreams, ever since the Refuge."

"Every night?" Race interjected.

"Well, yeah..."

"Rome, I'se a real light sleeper," Race said. "Heck, I'll prob'ly be up anyway. If ya want, I can-"

Romeo scowled. "I don't want your pity," he said.

Race sighed. "Romeo," he said, reaching for his arm.

Romeo reacted, pushing him hard in the chest, but the older boy barely wobbled.

"Romeo!" he said again, taking hold of him by the shoulders. "I ain't offerin' ya pity. I'se offerin' ya help. That's what brothers do, right?"

Romeo shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I dunno," he said. "I ain't never had a brother before."

"Brothers look out for each other," Race explained. "We'se family. Ya know how _those_ work, right?"

Romeo perked up. "Yeah," he said. "I had me one of those once."

Race sent him a sideways grin. "You'se already heard 'bout my family," he said. "Tell me 'bout yours."

Romeo smiled slightly, remembering. "Ain't much ta say, really," he said. "Me, Mama and Pa. Our dog. We lived upstate, in the country. Only moved ta the Bronx afta Mama died. She never did like the city, but Pa was from here."

"The country, huh?" Race said, bumping Romeo's shoulder with his. "What was the dog's name?"

Romeo laughed. "Spot."

Race spat out his cigar, laughing so hard he almost choked. "Spot?" he gasped.

"Yeah," Romeo answered, wondering what the heck was so funny.

"Spot is the name of the future Brooklyn leader," Race explained when he had calmed down enough to speak. "Spot Conlon. Knockout's been trainin' the kid up since he was 'bout nine years old. When he takes over, he'll be the most feared kid in New Yawk. And he shares a name with your _dog._ "

He dissolved into giggles again, and his laughter seemed to be contagious. "Don't tell him," Romeo begged, feeling a laugh rising up in his throat.

Anyone who passed by must have thought they were insane- two ragged newsboys dying of laughter on a Manhattan street corner.

"I won't tell," Race promised, crossing his heart. He glanced up at the sky. "I gotta get ta Sheepshead if I wanna catch the mornin' races. Meet ya at lunch?"

Romeo started to nod, but got distracted by a pretty girl walking past.

"Excuse me, miss!" he called, taking of his cap. "I think somethin's wrong with my eyes. I can't keep 'em offa you."

Race rolled his eyes as the lady gushed over Romeo and bought a paper. "Prob'ly payin' him twice what it's worth," he muttered. "Kid's a natural."

* * *

Romeo snapped awake, sitting up and breathing hard. _Where was he?_ All he could see was darkness and there was a dull ache in his back.

 _Darkness. Pain. The Refuge._

"Race," he whimpered.

He heard bed springs creak above him, and then Race's voice spoke out in the darkness. "You'se okay, kid. You'se in the Lodge House, 'member?"

 _The Lodge House._

As his senses calmed down, he was aware of details he had missed before. The steady, even breathing of the other boys, the noises of the city out the window, the lack of hunger pangs in his stomach.

"Thanks, Race," he murmured, laying back down. He winced as the skin of his back made contact with the mattress and turned onto his side.

"Aw, anytime, Romeo," Race said above him. "Ain't no big deal."

"It is to me," Romeo insisted, starting to drift off. "Love ya, Race."

He could hear the smile in Race's words. "Love ya, too, kid."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hello, lovely people! Special thanks to Obsessed2k17 for reviewing, and to Sheila Prior for reviewing, favoriting, and following! Big thank yous also to my newsie friends Flash and Trip! Seriously, they gave me my Newsie nickname and everything. They're cool.**

 **I finally chose a cover art for this story! It's a picture I drew of Ben Cook as Racetrack and Andy Richardson as Romeo. (Speaking of Ben Cook as Racetrack,** **I watched Newsies Live and it was even more amazing than I remembered.) As always, if anyone has requests they want incorporated into the story (this or another) I'd love to hear them!**

 **Obsessed2k17: Your request has been heard, and it'll come into play in the next chapter.**

 **Please read, review, favorite, follow, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	5. Kings of New York

_Summer, 1895_

* * *

"C'mon, boys!" Jack hollered, dodging people as he raced through the streets.

"Hey, slow down, Cowboy!" Race called, stopping to wait for Crutchie.

The four of them -Jack, Romeo, Race, and Crutchie- had had a rare day when they all sold out early. So of course, they went to the park. They might be newsboys, but they were still boys.

"Watch this, Rome," Race said, grabbing the trunk of a nearby tree. He clambered up it like a monkey, perching on one of the higher branches. "I'm the King of New Yawk!" he shouted to the sky.

"I wanna be king, too!" Romeo protested. The two boys bickered loudly as Romeo made his way up the tree, joining Race on the branch and making it swing precariously.

Jack rolled his eyes, sending Crutchie a grin. "You bummers quit gripin'!" he yelled up to them, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Ya can both be kings."

"If they'se kings, what does that make us?" Crutchie asked.

Jack grinned. "The brave and fearless knights, of course," he said. "C'mon, let's find some swords."

They were busy scouting around for sticks when they heard Lou's shout. Lou, short for Louisiana, was one of the older boys and Butch's second. The tall, lanky, dark-skinned boy had made his way to New York from New Orleans, giving him his nickname.

"Hey!" Lou called, stopping at the edge of the grass. "Butch is lookin' for you four. You'se gonna make us late."

Jack and Crutchie threw down their sticks, and Race and Romeo jumped down from the tree.

"Romeo ain't never been ta Brooklyn before," Race spoke up as Lou led them in the direction of the Bridge. _"Someone,"_ he glared at Jack. "Told him a buncha stories and made him noyvous."

"I ain't noyvous!" Romeo protested.

Lou laughed, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "On a normal day I'd tell ya ta stay away from Brooklyn," he said. "But lucky for us this ain't a normal day. Brooklyn and Manhattan has been meetin' at the docks for the Fourth of July for as long as I can remember. Just don't pick fights with the Brooklyn boys, _Race,_ and you'll be okay."

Racetrack smirked, sticking a cigar in his mouth.

"Bet I can beat ya ta the Bridge!" Jack said suddenly, taking off. Race and Romeo were after him in an instant, complaining loudly about his head start.

Lou shook his head, grinning. "Let's get goin'," he said, hoisting Crutchie onto his back. "Don't want the party ta start without us."

* * *

Butch gave up trying to count heads as his boys ran across the Bridge, whooping and hollering. "Head down ta the docks, boys!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. They complied, several of them tossing shirts, shoes, and suspenders onto the bank and diving into the river in their long johns.

"'Hattan!" a voice called behind him.

Butch turned around with a grin, spit shaking with the leader of Brooklyn. "Heya, Knockout," he said. "And Squirt," he added, catching sight of a smaller figure behind the older boy.

The scrawny little kid scowled at him.. "It's _Spot,"_ he corrected.

Knockout grinned, clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. "Kid's gonna rule Brooklyn some day."

Spot puffed up with pride, lifting his chin and fixing Butch with a glare.

Knockout jerked a thumb toward the river. "Go on," he said. "Go play with the 'Hattan kids."

With a slight grin, Spot scampered off toward the water, joining the other boys.

With him gone, the two leaders locked eyes, each refusing to look away first. Backing down meant weakness, and borough leaders couldn't be weak.

"Elizabeth said she'll be here," Knockout said finally.

Butch grinned. "Good."

* * *

"Race!" Romeo shouted. "C'mon in!"

Racetrack glanced up from where he sat on the dock. "Nah," he called back. "I'm good here."

Romeo pulled himself up onto the dock, shaking water out of his hair. "C'mon, Race," he said. "It's about a million degrees out. The water's real nice, c'mon in."

Race shook his head adamantly. "I'se fine, Romeo," he said. "Get back in." When Romeo didn't move, Race pushed him over the edge, causing him to hit the water with a loud splash.

"You're in for it now, Race!" Romeo declared when he surfaced, pushing his wet hair back from his face. He splashed water in his brother's direction, and Race sprang away from it as if he'd been burned.

Something clicked in Romeo's head, and he pulled himself up onto the dock again. "You'se afraid of the water."

"I am not," Race countered, rolling his eyes. "I just don't feel like swimmin' is all."

Romeo shrugged. "I can teach ya," he said. "It's real easy."

Race turned away, chomping down on his cigar. "I don't need my little brother ta teach me nothin'," he said.

Romeo followed him. "Race," he tried again. "I only know how ta swim 'cause I lived in the country. The Brooklyn boys know how 'cause they live near the river. It's real easy. I'll show ya." With that, he took Race by the shoulders and pushed him hard, making him topple back into the water.

Race drew in a breath, only to have his lungs fill with water. Panic rose in his chest, and he kicked for the surface. He kept kicking, keeping his head above water as he coughed and spluttered. "I'm gonna kill you!" he gasped as soon as he could speak.

"Race," Romeo said calmly, treading water.

"Rome, I'se gonna chase ya down and I'se gonna soak ya, for real this time," Race threatened.

"Racetrack!" Romeo said, gaining his attention. "You'se doin' it. You'se swimmin'."

Race stopped talking for a rare moment, shock registering on his face.

"That's all there is to it," Romeo said with a grin. "Just kick and keep your head above the water. That's how my pa taught me, too."

A small smirk played at the corners of Race's mouth. "He threw ya in?"

"Yeah," Romeo said. "His plan kinda backfired, though. I sank like a rock and wouldn't go near water for a month."

Race grinned in spite of himself. "How'd ya know that wouldn't happen with me?"

Romeo shrugged, smothering a smile. "I was really hopin' ya wouldn't."

Race rolled his eyes and pushed his brother's head underwater. Romeo splashed him back, laughing.

"Hey, fellas!" Knockout called from the dock. "Runner stole some firecrackers. We'se gonna have ourselves a show!"

Yelling excitedly, the boys climbed out of the river and searched for their clothes, the usual arguments over who's pants were who's and who had taken so and so's shoes. Knockout waited impatiently, eager to start the display. The boys were just starting to quiet down when a young, very pretty lady entered their midst. That set them off again, whistling and catcalling, and this time both leaders yelled at them to shut up.

"Hello, Terry," the girl said, giving Knockout a hug.

A few of the Brooklyn boys whooped loudly, and he silenced them with a single glare. "Can it, boys," he said. "She's me sistah. Elizabeth."

She flashed them a smile, turning to Butch and giving him a lingering kiss. The Manhattan boys exchanged surprised glances. Butch's girl was the Brooklyn leader's sister?

"See, this is why ya don't fall in love with just any goil," Jack said with authority. "Ya never know what powerful people she might be kin to. Love at first sight's for suckers."

Spot ignored him, turning to Knockout. "Is this why we'se got an alliance with 'Hattan?" he asked.

"At first, yeah," the leader admitted, glancing at the pair. "But when you'se leader, Spot, you'd be smart ta keep it goin'. 'Hattaners are good ta have on your side in a pinch."

Romeo and Race's eyes met. _"Spot?"_ Race mouthed. Unable to contain it, they both dissolved into giggles.

"What's so funny?" Spot demanded, glowering at the two of them.

Romeo couldn't answer, doubled over with laughter, but Race was a little more composed. "Nothin'," he said. "C'mon, Rome, let's get good seats for the fireworks show."

* * *

"Only three fights 'tween our boys and the Brooklynites," Lou said, lifting a sleeping Romeo in his arms and preparing for the walk back to the Lodge House. "I'd call that a success."

Butch snorted. "Better than last year."

He had to admit that it had been a fun night. The city's firework display, paired with the Roman candles the Brooklyn boys had gotten a hold of, had made a pretty fantastic show. And Elizabeth had been there, preventing fights between the two leaders and putting Butch in a much better mood.

The leader and his second walked in companionable silence for some time, watching the antics of the younger boys as they ran on ahead.

"Get a load of Jack," Butch said, a trace of humor in his voice.

The thirteen-year-old was organizing races, and the younger boys were scrambling to do what he said, obeying him without question.

Lou grinned. "He's a natural," he said. "Ya think he'll be the one, once ya step down?"

Butch sent him a sharp look.

"Don't look at me like that," Lou said. "We'se seventeen now. I know it ain't far comin'. And I saw the way you was lookin' at your goil tonight. When are ya gonna pop the question?"

Butch relaxed some. "I'se still savin' for a ring," he said. "I'm hopin' I'll be ready by the time I turn eighteen."

"That's less than a year away," Lou pointed out.

"I know," Butch responded, watching Jack again. "Kelly'll be fourteen by then. Old enough ta be a leader, don'tcha think?"

Lou changed the subject, gesturing to Romeo. "Ya should've seen the four of 'em playin' earlier," he said. "Bein' kings and knights. Reminded me of when we was kids."

Butch grinned. "Aw, they should be kids while they can," he said. "The Lodge House is changin', Lou. Newsies are havin' ta grow up faster and faster."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hmm... I kind of did things differently with this chapter. I like it, though. I loved writing the part about "love at first sight's for suckers." Oh, Jack, if you only knew...**

 **Special thanks to Obsessed2k17 for reviewing! What do you think of Race's swimming secret? I could have taken your request in so many different directions, but I loved the idea of Romeo teaching his older brother something. Thank you also to DelanceyTrashcan for their review and request! I've already got a scene worked out with your request. :)**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter in a review! I'm also open to requests, if you have any!**

 **Remember to read, review, favorite, follow, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	6. Where's Romeo?

_Autumn, 1895_

* * *

Racetrack drummed his fingers on the tabletop, glancing once again at the door.

 _Where the heck is Romeo?_

Jacobi paused in wiping down tables to give his two cents. "Maybe your little friend, he is a-not coming."

With a sigh, Race conceded defeat. "Yeah, okay. Gimme a sandwich. My usual."

"That will be five cents," Jacobi reminded him, disappearing behind the counter.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," Race muttered. He got irritable when he was was hungry... or tired... or when he was worried about Romeo. But he felt bad about taking it out on Jacobi. _"Grazie,"_ he added as the older man passed him hi plate.

The deli owner's face lit up, hearing the old familiar Italian. _"Prego,"_ he responded. "I would not worry, Race. Your friend will be a-back soon."

"Yeah, I hope so," Race said quietly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

* * *

"Come off it, Race," Jack said, kicking a rock that lay in his path. "So the kid skipped lunch. That don't mean he's lyin' in a ditch somewhere. Ya ain't his mother."

"It ain't that he skipped lunch, Jack," Race said, sounding exasperated. "He could be stuck in... in trouble," he finished lamely. Romeo had confided in him, and only him, about his time in the Refuge. He wasn't about to break that trust.

"Let's just go look for him, okay?"

"Alright, Race," Jack said tiredly. "Lemme get Crutchie, and we'll start lookin'."

"Start lookin' for what?" Crutchie asked, limping towards them. He grinned. "Race finally askin' me for help with a sellin' spot?"

 _"No,"_ Race said, shooting the tow-headed boy a glare.

Jack moved protectively between them, sending Racetrack a warning look. "We'se lookin' for Romeo," he said. "He missed lunch today, and Race thinks he might be in trouble."

"Then let's get a move on," Crutchie said determinedly, shoving his crutch under his armpit.

Race lit up momentarily. "Really?"

"Yeah," Crutchie said. "If it's important ta you, it's important ta me."

Race smiled slightly. "Thanks, Crutchie."

* * *

 _"Race,"_ Jack said. "It's been three hours. We'se searched every back alley in Manhattan. The kid ain't there."

"If it was Crutchie who was missin' you'd keep lookin'," Race shot back.

Crutchie wedged himself between his two friends, always the peacemaker. "C'mon, fellas," he said, looking them both in the eyes. "It _is_ gettin' late, Race. Maybe Romeo's back at the Lodge House."

Race bit down on his cigar, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Maybe."

"Let's just go," Jack said, reaching for his friend's arm.

Race jerked away. Nerves were frayed, meals had been missed, and tempers had been lost. None of them was in the best mood. Pushing ahead of the others, Race stomped up the stairs.

"What's eatin' ya, Race?" Lou called. Race ignored him, throwing himself onto the bottom bunk and reaching into his pocket for a cigar.

Almost immediately, he felt the impact of a small body landing on his. "Hey, Race!" a voice shouted. "Want an apple?"

Race sat up suddenly, cracking his head against the top bunk. "Romeo?"

The younger boy's grinned back at him, holding out an apple. "Want one?" he asked again.

Race scowled, knocking the fruit out of Romeo's hand. "No, I don't want a-"

Lou dove forward and covered Romeo's ears, effectively blocking out the next few words.

"-apple!" Race finished. "Where have ya been all day, Rome? We'se been combin' Manhattan for ya!"

Romeo looked startled. "I was in the Bronx," he said. "I ain't seen my friends there in a long time."

"Your friends?" Race repeated.

"Yeah," Romeo said. "I had a life before you, y'know."

That was the wrong thing to say. "Another life?" Race shouted. "Did those friends from your old life pull ya outta the gutter when you was stranded in Manhattan? Did those friends give ya a place ta stay when your folks died? Are any of those friends your brothers, Romeo? Or am I not as special as I thought?"

Eyes wide, Romeo fell back a step. Lou wrapped an arm around the dark-haired boy protectively. "Easy, Race," he cautioned.

"Ya _are_ my brother, Race," Romeo said. "I just... I wanted to..." He trailed off, his face crumpling.

Lou's eyes widened. "Butch!" he yelled. No answer.

"Okay, you and you," Jack said, taking charge and pointing to Race and then to Romeo. "Take this outside and settle it. Do whatever it takes, but if either of ya draws blood I'm soakin' ya both." Taking each of them by the collar, he shoved them out the door and slammed it closed.

"Way ta go, Jack," Lou whispered on his way back.

* * *

Race kicked at the door angrily a few times before crossing his arms and slumping against the wall.

"Race," Romeo said carefully, scrubbing at the tears on his face.

"What?" Race grunted.

Romeo crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, mirroring Race's stance. "What did I do wrong?"

Race looked away. "I didn't know where ya were," he mumbled. "I thought you was back in the Refuge. And if ya were it would be my fault, 'cause I'm the big brother and I'm supposed ta look afta ya."

"We look afta each other, Race," Romeo reminded him. "This brother thing goes both ways. And you'se my _only_ brother. Ya know that, right?"

Race bumped his shoulder against Romeo's. "Yeah, I know," he said. "C'mon, let's go see if Lou'll let us in. Oh, and Rome?" he added, turning around. "Ya still got that apple?"

Romeo grinned. "Yeah."

Race grinned back, looking like his old mischievous self again. "Good. I missed supper lookin' for ya."

* * *

"Heya, Butch," Lou said wearily, coming into the room. "Everythin's wrapped up with the boys. Ya can get some rest."

Butch looked up, startled. "What's wrong with the boys?"

"Nothin' now," Lou said, glancing away. "Romeo ran off for few hours, and Race was real shaken up about it. They yelled at each other a bit, but Jack locked 'em outside 'til they worked it out.

"Kid's a good leader," Butch said absently, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lou, you'se my best friend. I'm gonna tell ya the truth. I was out tonight-"

"-with Elizabeth," Lou finished. "And ya didn't know anythin' 'bout what was goin' on with your boys. I know."

Butch ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the wild black locks. "I think it's time for me ta step down as leader," he said. "I can't give my boys all my attention any more. I didn't even _know_ what was happenin' today."

Lou leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually. "How long?"

Butch reached under his pillow, coming up with an old cigar box full of bills and coins. Lou waited silently as he counted them all.

"Two weeks," he said finally. "Two more good weeks of sellin' and we'll be set.

Lou nodded slowly. "I'se been thinkin 'bout leavin', too," he admitted. "I'll wait a little longer afta you, though," he said.

Butch stood up. "Thank ya, Lou," he said, holding out his hand.

Lou started to spit on his, but hesitated, thinking about it.

"Go ahead," Butch said. "One last time as newsies."

Lou nodded slowly. "One last time," he agreed, spitting in his hand.

Butch spat in his, and they shook on it.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey guys! Sorry I've been missing for so long! I accepted a job as a camp counselor this summer, so my updates might be sporadic for the next few weeks. Rest assured, I will not abandon this story or any others. Stick with me, please!**

 **I wanted to thank Marcelle for the lovely review she left on this story. This chapter was inspired by one of her requests. Race's temper tantrum was really fun to write. :)**

 **Note to everyone who's left reviews on this story: I take all your requests into consideration and they seriously make my day. So please leave lots of reviews on this chapter and let me know what you think of Butch's decision!**

 **Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	7. A New Era

_Autumn, 1895_

* * *

"Come _on,_ Romeo!" Race shouted. "We're gonna be late!"

Romeo ignored him, flashing the nun one of his best smiles. "I must say, Sister, God has certainly blessed ya with beauty," he said.

"Romeo!" Race repeated, appearing at his elbow. "Flirtin' with a nun? That's new, even for you. C'mon, we'se gotta get out and sell."

"Race, how am I _supposed_ ta sell if ya keep chasin' the goils away?" Romeo complained, allowing himself to be led through the crowd of newsies. Race dragged him into line behind Jack and Crutchie, but Romeo jerked away.

"Who're they?" he asked.

Two boys, a little older than Jack, stood on either side of Wiesel. The younger one was thin and drawn, with large, haunted dark eyes. The older one had his arms crossed over his chest and wore a blustery scowl on his face.

"These are my nephews," Wiesel said in answer to the newsies' stares. He jerked a thumb toward the boys. "Oscar and Morris. They'se livin' with me for the time bein'."

"Why?" Crutchie asked.

The older one, Oscar, uncrossed his arms. "None of your business, Crip," he said.

Jack's grin melted into a scowl. "Hey, leave him alone!" he ordered. "What's your angle, Weasel? Why are these two hangin' around?"

"Lay off, Kelly," Wiesel said, sending him a glare. "They needs ta earn their keep, and I needs some muscle."

"Muscle?" Jack repeated. "Then why'd ya hire these clowns? The younger one here looks like a twig."

Morris fell back a step, never saying a word. His dark eyes betrayed his hurt, and Oscar pushed himself in front of his brother.

"You watch yourself, Kelly," he threatened.

"No," Race said, speaking up for the first time. He had been listening quietly, a rarity for him. _"You_ watch yourself, Oscar. 'Cause us newsies stick together. Ya mess with one of us, ya mess with all of us."

The two boys stared at each other, each refusing to back down first.

"Papes for the newsies!" Wiesel shouted, startling them both. "Come on, line up!"

The newsies fell into line, and Oscar and Morris ducked behind the counter to count out papes. "We get the little loud-mouthed one first," Oscar whispered to his brother. "Ain't no one talks to me like that."

* * *

Race jingled the change in his pocket, grinning around his cigar. It was a good selling day so far, and the horse races were even better. He had made nearly a dollar on bets alone.

"There he is," Oscar whispered to his brother. The two boys were lying in wait in a narrow alleyway, watching Racetrack make his way down the street.

"Ma wouldn't like this, Os," Morris said quietly.

Oscar whirled around, his eyes blazing. "Ma's dead, Morris," he said bluntly. "The fever took her, and you still ain't all the way better. We'se gotta look out for ourselves now. And if Uncle Wiesel tells us ta keep the newsies in line, then that's what we do."

"Okay," Morris said reluctantly. "You throw the first punch, I'll come in from behind."

Oscar nodded. "Got it."

As Racetrack passed by their hiding spot, Oscar jumped out at him, catching him by surprise. He managed to get a few good punches in before the younger boy gathered his wits and started to fight back.

"Now, Morris!" he shouted. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt a heavy weight land on his back, causing him to stagger against the wall.

"Romeo?" Race gasped as the dark-haired boy disentangled himself from his attacker.

"Hey, Race," Romeo said with a smile.

Race ducked under Morris' arm and kicked him in the back of the legs, sending him to the ground. "Run," he called to Romeo.

For once, they didn't fight over the matter. Half-empty newsbags flapping over their shoulders, Race and Romeo ran through Manhattan's maze of streets, weaving through crowds and taking shortcuts until the Delancey brothers were far behind. It was much too late for lunch by now, but they bought a couple apples and ate them as they walked.

"How'd ya know ta come find me?" Race asked around a mouthful.

"Ya missed lunch," Romeo said sheepishly. "I got worried. Thought ya might be in trouble."

Race grinned, bumping Romeo's shoulder with his. "So how do I look?" he asked. He gestured to his eye, which was already beginning to swell. "Do I look tough?"

Romeo wasn't in the mood for joking. "Race... Ya know we'se gonna hafta take this to Butch, right?"

Race sobered quickly. "Yeah, I know."

"If the Delancey brothers stick around, it could mean bad trouble for the newsies," Romeo continued.

Race nodded. "We'll tell him as soon as we get home," he said. "Now let's get out and sell. Carryin' the banner, remember?"

Romeo smiled faintly. "Carryin' the banner."

* * *

"Butch!" Romeo yelled as he and Race clattered up the steps. "Butch?"

"Shh," Lou warned, grabbing both their shoulders and stopping them in their tracks. "Butch is out back talkin' ta Jack. Whatever ya gotta say, it can wait."

Without hesitating, Race flung himself at the window, pressing his face to the glass. Sure enough, Butch and Jack could be seen in the distance. "What're they talkin' about?" he demanded.

Crutchie glanced up. "Who knows?" he said. "They'se been out there half an hour already."

"Then they should be comin' back soon," Lou said. He was the only one _not_ completely invested in what was going on. Then again, he was the only one who already _knew_ what was going on.

"Here they come!" Romeo said suddenly.

They watched in silence as Jack approached the Lodge House alone. He paused for a second, dragging his sleeve across his eyes before pushing open the door.

"Hey, fellas," he said wearily.

Questions started flying.

"Where's Butch?"

"What were ya talkin' about?"

"Ya ain't cryin', are ya Jack?"

Lou rested his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Alright, boys," he began.

Jack shook his head. "I got this," he said. "Butch ain't comin' back, fellas. I'm the leader now. Get ta bed. We'se gotta work tomorra. Carryin' the banner."

Romeo's eyes widened. He had to see for himself. Pushing ahead of the other boys, he ran upstairs to Butch's bed. His clothes and belongings were gone, and the cigar box under his pillow was empty.

A new era had begun in the Lodge House.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey guys! Here's the next chapter for you. :) This one actually combines two requests- one from Marcelle about Race and Romeo stuck in a sticky situation, and one from Obsessed2k17 about Race being cornered by the Delanceys with only Romeo to help him. Let me know what you guys thought in a review, and please keep the requests coming!** **Also, let me know what you thought about Jack taking over, and the Delanceys being introduced!**

 **Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	8. High Times, Hard Times

_Winter, 1895_

* * *

Romeo sent a longing glance toward where the nuns usually stood every morning. The whistling wind and near-freezing weather had prevented them from making an appearance for nearly a week now. Romeo scoffed, turning away. He never thought he'd miss stale bread and lukewarm coffee until it was gone.

"Hey, Rome," Race said, appearing at his elbow.

The younger boy jumped, startled out of his thoughts.

"Here ya go, pal," Race said, shoving a still-warm roll into Romeo's hands. "Go on, eat it," he said when his brother hesitated.

That was enough for Romeo. "Where'd ya get it?" he asked between bites.

Race felt a twinge in his heart, watching his brother devour the roll. "Don't you mind that," he said. "Meet ya for lunch?"

"Deal," Romeo said, swallowing the last bite. He spat into his hand, and they shook on it.

* * *

Racetrack kept his head down, trying to shield his face from the biting wind and clutching his prize his chest. He had the streets of Manhattan memorized anyways, and it wasn't likely there would be many people out in weather like this. So when Jack Kelly grabbed his arm, of course he yelped in surprise.

"Settle down, kid, it's just me," Jack said.

Race relaxed some, jerking his arm out of the older boy's grasp. "Whatcha want, Cowboy?" he asked.

Jack shoved his hands unto his pockets, hunching up his shoulders as he fell into step beside Race. "When did ya eat last?" he asked bluntly.

Race's head snapped up. "Ya saw me with a roll this mornin'," he said, dodging the question.

"And then I saw ya give it ta Romeo," Jack finished. "The nuns are gone and it's been a rotten week of sellin'. When did ya eat last?"

Race scowled. He didn't like being confronted. "Day before last," he muttered.

Jack softened some. "I don't got any money ta give ya," he said. "Not now, anyway. But I can get ya some food."

"I already got food," Race said, showing him the bread he had hidden under his jacket.

Jack's brows drew together, and his eyes grew stormy. "Race, if I find out you'se been stealin' I'll soak ya inta next week," he said. "That's the kinda stuff that lands kids in the Refuge. Is there where you wanna be?"

When Race didn't answer, Jack shook him by the collar. "Huh?"

"No!" Race said finally. "I just wanna feed my little brother. Romeo's countin' on me."

Some of the anger faded from Jack's gaze. "I'll get the two of ya some supper tonight," he promised. "For now, promise me you'll eat some of that." He gestured to the loaf of bread, squeezed so tightly that Race's fingers left dents in it.

"I promise."

Jack smiled slightly. "Good."

* * *

"Whaddaya think Jack's gonna bring?" Romeo chirped, trotting along beside Racetrack.

"I dunno, kid," Race said, biting down on his cigar. He hated asking for help, and he hated seeming weak. But Romeo didn't deserve to starve, so he had passed on Jack's message.

"Race!" someone called from behind him. The voice was filled with panic, almost a sob. _"RACE!"_

Whirling around, he caught sight of Crutchie hobbling toward him as fast as his leg and crutch could take him. Just before he reached them his leg gave out, pitching him forward.

Race dove forward, catching the younger boy before he hit the ground. "Geez, Cructhie, wouldja calm down?" he said. Then he noticed the tears trailing down his brother's face.

"It's Jack," Crutchie choked out. "He got caught stealin' some food. They took 'im ta the Refuge, Race."

The words hit Race like a ton of bricks. _The Refuge. Caught. Stealin' food._

The Refuge. Jack was there. Beside him, Romeo gave a quiet sob. For a brief instant, Race hated Jack. Hated him for dredging up memories in Romeo's mind. Did he know how long it would take to get that kid to sleep tonight? How could Jack tell him not to steal, then turn around and get caught doing just that? Was twice in the Refuge not enough for him?

But then that horrible second passed, and all Race felt was guilt.

"He was stealin' it for me," he said in a low voice.

Crutchie looked up, his tears momentarily subsiding. "What?"

Race didn't answer, only bent down to hoist Romeo onto his back. "Nothin'," he said. "C'mon."

Carrying Romeo and supporting Crutchie, he led them back to the Lodge House.

* * *

Race collapsed on the couch, exhausted. It was past midnight, and Romeo had just fallen asleep.

"How's the kid holdin' up?" Lou asked quietly.

Race lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I finally got him ta sleep. He'll be up in an hour or two with a nightmare."

He cursed under his breath, pounding his fist against the wall. "How could Jack do this ya us?" he demanded. "He tells me not to steal, even though I'm just tryin' ya feed my brother, and then he goes and does the same thing! He spooks us all with horror stories 'bout the Refuge, scarin' Romeo 'bout outta his skin, then goes off and lands himself there! Don't he know what that does ta us? What it does ta me, and Romeo, and Crutchie?"

Lou's dark eyes glinted, and he grabbed Race by the collar. "You listen here," he said. "I'm on my way outta this life. I try ta stay outta stuff like this, but you ain't givin' me a choice. Everythin' Jack does, he does for you boys. Ya wanna know why Jack's a better leader than Butch? 'Cause he ain't just a leader. He's a brother ta every boy sleepin' upstairs right now. He landed himself in the Refuge tryin' ta feed you and your brother. Every time he's been ta that place, it's for one of you boys. And each time he's there, Snyder squeezes his fist tighter. One of these days, Jack's gonna be stuck there and he won't get out. You and me, Race, we ain't never been there. But Jack has, and so has Butch. They'se the two stronger guys I know, and I'se listened to both of 'em cryin' after a nightmare. So you don't get ta sit on your high horse and judge Jack for what he did. If he thinks you boys are worth the risk, it just proves ta me that Butch was right 'bout him bein' the best leader 'Hattan'll ever see."

Race fell silent, humbled by Lou's words. A muffled thump sounded from upstairs, followed by Romeo's small voice calling out.

"Race!"

"I... I gotta go," Race said, finding his voice. "Thanks, Lou." He slipped upstairs, ready to comfort Romeo... and think about a few things.

* * *

"Fellas!" Crutchie yelled, throwing open the door to the Lodge House. "Fellas, look! Jack's here!"

"Jack?" several voices echoed.

Sure enough, just after him came the fearless Manhattan leader. He walked with a swagger in his step, filled to the brim with confidence. Aside from a few bruises on his face, Jack looked none the worse for wear from three days in the Refuge.

"Wait'll ya hear the story Jack's got!" Crutchie declared. He was practically giddy with excitement, his gaze resting almost worshipfully on the older boy. "He got ta meet the governor!"

"Soon to be governor," Jack corrected, pulling up a chair and sitting in it backwards. "He ain't got the votes yet. He came ta the Refuge, showing he cared about orphans and garbage like that. I got my butt in the backseat of his carriage, and here we are."

He grinned, pleased with the effect his words had on the boys. Romeo was the only one who looked worried.

"Are ya okay, Jack?" he asked softly, his dark eyes troubled. Jack's grin faltered for a moment, but he collected himself quickly and ruffled the younger boy's hair.

"Aw, it takes more than a few days in jail ta scare me," he said brashly. "I ain't scared of no one!"

Only Crutchie noticed the pain behind Jack's smile, the way he carefully kept his sleeves pulled down to his wrists and his collar buttoned up to his chin.

"Leave it to the kid ta break down Jack's walls," he whispered. As excited as he was about his brother's return, he would have his work cut out for him these next few weeks.

* * *

Race lay awake in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Jack was back, so everything should be fine. Everything was resolved. So why did it it feel... off?

He heard the bed below his creak, indicating that Romeo had woken up.

"It's okay, Rome," he said. "I'm here."

Romeo shook his head vigorously. "No," he said. "I want Jack."

The words were like a blow to the stomach. "What?" Race said, sitting up. He smacked his head on the ceiling and cursed, causing someone a few beds over to shush him.

"Can it, Specs," he hissed. Moving in the dark, he climbed down to sit on Romeo's bed.

The younger boy had his knees drawn up to his chest, looking so small in a too-big nightshirt.

"What's wrong, pal?" Race asked. "Why do ya need Jack?"

"I need ta ask him somethin'," Romeo sniffed, dragging his sleeve under his nose.

"Whaddaya need ta ask him?" Race said patiently.

Romeo looked away, wrapping his arms around his knees. "He was in the Refuge," he said. "And look at 'im! He's fine! So why do I still have nightmares every night? Jack's been there three times now, and he ain't even scared!"

"Romeo, Jack is scared," Race said firmly. "He just..."

He paused, struggling to put what Lou had told him into words. "He loves us more than he's scared of Snyder," he said finally.

Romeo looked up, his dark eyes wide. "Even me?"

Race bumped his shoulder lightly. "Yeah, even you. And ya know what, Rome? I'd go ta the Refuge for you."

"It's easy for ya ta say that," Romeo said sleepily. "Ya ain't never been there."

Race eased the younger boy into bed, pulling the blanket up to cover him. "G'night, Rome."

"G'night, Race."

In spite of his bold words, Race couldn't help but remember what Lou had said. He hadn't ever been to the Refuge. He didn't know its horrors like the other boys did. If he experienced it firsthand, would he still be willing to go through it for Romeo?

As he tried to fall asleep, Race hoped fervently that he would never have to find out.

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey everybody! So sorry for the long wait. I was super busy with camp, and I actually wrote half the chapter last weekend, but it ended up being longer and deeper than expected. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! I don't have time to address you all personally, but I see you and I love you for it.**

 **Like I said before, I love reviews and requests! They make my day.**

 **Remember to read, review, favorite, follow, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	9. Winter Colds

_Winter, 1895_

* * *

"What're we gonna do, Jack?" Crutchie asked quietly.

"I dunno," Jack said. He cursed under his breath. "If the darn kid hadn't been out in the snow for an hour chattin' up some factory girl, he wouldn't be sick in bed right now!"

Crutchie grinned sympathetically. "Hey, you'se the one what named him Romeo."

"I ain't the one who did that!" Jack defended. "That was all Race."

Crutchie's smile faded some. "Speakin' of Race, how's he holdin' up?"

"Race is his usual cheerful self when he's had three hours a' sleep," Jack said wryly. "He ain't sick yet, but he's tired. The idiot's spent two nights jumpin' outta bed if Romeo even coughs." In spite of his words, he knew he would do the same in a heartbeat.

If Romeo would let him, that is. Lately, the younger boy had been very picky about who he spent time with. Race guessed it was the because of both Butch and Lou leaving in such a short time, or because of the memories dredged up by Jack's time in the Refuge, or because of the daily threat of being soaked by the Delanceys. Whether one of those things or a combination of the three, Romeo wouldn't let anyone other than Race touch him. With him being sick, that made things complicated. Race was stretched thin trying to sell papes and look after his little brother, and the lack of sleep was making him grumpy and irritable. Jack and Crutchie had been dropping in on them frequently during the day, making sure everything was okay.

Crutchie changed positions, stretching his bad leg out in front of him on the battered sofa. "We could-"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence. A rumpled, sleepy-looking Romeo wandered into the room, looking disoriented and confused.

"Hey, pal," Jack said, getting to his feet.

"Hey," Romeo mumbled, curling up next to Crutchie on the couch. Laying his head on the crippled boy's lap, he fell back asleep almost immediately. Jack and Crutchie shared astonished glances.

"He's out of it," Jack said with a grin.

"Where's Race?" Crutchie questioned.

"Sleepin', if he knows what's good for him," Jack replied. "Look, Crutch, I can sell the rest a' ya papes today. Ya gotta handle on things here?"

Crutchie glanced down at Romeo, asleep in his lap with his dark hair sticking out in all directions. "Yeah, I can take care a' things here," he said.

Jack grinned and nodded his thanks. Settling both news bags over his shoulder, he headed out the door, whistling cheerfully as he did.

* * *

"Arthur leapt upon the rock and laid his hands on the hilt," Crutchie said, reading slowly from his battered copy of _King Arthur_. He was one of the few newsies who could read beyond just making out headlines, and he enjoyed practicing. "In one quick mo... mo-tion... he drew the sword from the stone!"

A small clatter upstairs cut him off. "Romeo?"

There was the sound of a small elephant -or Race- tromping down the stairs, and then the blond-haired Italian appeared in the doorway, looking panicked. When he saw Romeo with Crutchie, he immediately relaxed.

"There ya are," he said. With a relieved sigh, he flopped down next to Crutchie, lifting the younger boy's bad leg gently into his lap. "I fell asleep," he said sheepishly.

Crutchie grinned. "Ya needed sleep," he said. "Ya prob'ly still do."

Race shook his head. "Nah, I'm good," he said. He reached for the copy of _King Arthur._ "Lemme read for awhile. Ya needs your rest, too."

Crutchie passed the book on to him without complaint, settling back against the worn-out cushion.

"Arthur held the sword in his hand, and it was his," Race read.

At the sound of his brother's voice, Romeo's dark eyes opened. "What's goin' on?" he murmured, still not fully awake.

Race ruffled the younger boy's hair. "Ya decided ta replace me, that's what," he joked.

Romeo half-lifted his head to look around the room, and his face flushed red when he realized he had fallen asleep on Crutchie. "I thought ya was Race!" he blurted out. "I was still half-asleep, and ya both have blond hair-"

"It's okay, Rome," Race interrupted with a grin. "It's good ta see ya sittin' with someone else without throwin' a screamin' fit."

Romeo scowled, resuming his spot propped up against Crutchie. "I don't throw screamin' fits," he said.

"Right," Race corrected himself. "Temper tantrums, more like it. What are ya, nine years old, or four?"

"I'se almost ten!" Romeo protested.

"Race, keep readin'," Crutchie interjected, playing the peacemaker as always. "I wanna know what happens ta Arthur, if he gets ta be king or not." He had no desire to be caught in the middle of one of their infrequent fights. When Race and Romeo went at it, it was a nightmare for everyone involved.

"I already know he gets ta be king," Race complained. "The book's called _King Arthur,_ ain't it?"

Even so, he flipped the book open and continued from where he left off. "He wrapped the sword in his cloak, for it shone so brightly..."

* * *

Jack trudged up the stairs to the Lodge House, leg-weary and exhausted. He had managed to sell 153 papes that day- enough to give him, Race, Romeo, and Crutchie each some money for tomorrow. Hopefully Romeo would be back on his feet by then. The kid had seemed pretty out of it earlier.

Shaking his head with a grin, Jack pushed open the door to check on his boys. The sight that greeted him made him smile. All three boys were asleep on top of each other. Romeo was wedged comfortably in the corner of the sofa, his head resting on Crutchie's chest. Crutchie's bad leg was stretched out on Race's lap, and Race's head was pillowed on Crutchie's shoulder.

With a slight smile, Jack dumped his two newsbags in the doorway and crossed to the couch. Resting his hand on Romeo's forehead, he nodded in satisfaction. The boy's fever had gone down. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Romeo's forehead. Brushing back Racetrack's blond curls, he kissed his forehead as well. He hovered a moment over Crutchie, making sure he was okay. That kid had never exactly had an iron immune system, ever since the polio had eaten up his leg and sapped his strength years ago. Finally convinced Crutchie was alright, Jack kissed his forehead and headed for the doorway.

"Sleep well, boys," he said, flicking off the lights. Then he added as an afterthought, "Love ya, brothers."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey, lovely people! This chapter was for a special reader, Obsessed2k17, also known as SomedayonBroadway. I finally managed to write something that was 90% fluff and I thought of you, lol. Enjoy the brotherly fluff about our favorite boys! To the rest of my readers, you should definitely check out SomedayonBroadway's stuff! Her stories are pretty amazing.**

 **On another note, I'm so sorry I was MIA for so long! Now that the summer is coming to a close and summer camps aren't going on anymore I should be able to write more often. As always, I'm open to requests... not just for this story, either. I love writing for all the Newsies. :) I would also love to gt to know some of you, so please don't be shy with reviews/PM's!**

 **Special shoutout to my newsie friends Flash and Trip for letting me pester them and bounce ideas off them, lol.**

 **Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner! (Oh, and good luck to everyone in the Pape Selling Competition!)**

 **-Peggs**


	10. Promises

_Spring, 1896_

* * *

"How many papes ya got left?" Romeo asked.

Race kicked at the ground, muttering under his breath. "Forty-six. Only sold four so far."

Romeo's heart sank. "I'se only sold three."

Race shrugged, forcing himself to look on things in a positive light for Romeo's sake. "If we at least break even, we'll have enough for tomorra," he said. "And if we sell a few more afta that, we'se can get a lunch ta split. The headline today's a real snoozer, but if we work togethah..."

He trailed off. Romeo was nowhere to be found. "Not again," he groaned. "Romeo!" When there was no answer, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. "ROMEO!" With an irritated sigh, he headed off to find his brother.

Meanwhile, Romeo crept up behind the stranger, tensed to run if he was discovered. He hadn't done this in a few years, but his fingers still remembered the skill. Jack and Race would be furious if they knew he was picking pockets again, but his mind was made up. The bread the nuns had served that morning seemed so long ago. That was when he had last eaten, and he knew it had been longer than that for Race. Besides, Race had spent the past two years assuring him he was safe from the Refuge. He trusted his brother, and he had nothing to fear... right? If he could just nick a few coins they would be set, and everything would be okay.

He was just sliding his hand into the man's jacket pocket when the stranger whirled around and grabbed his wrist. _Snyder._ Romeo backpedaled quickly, trying to get away, but Snyder held him fast.

"So, you thought you'd come pick my pocket again," he growled. "I'll fix that. Another month in the Refuge'll cool your heels."

"No!" Romeo burst out. "Please, stop! Let me go!" He tried to wrench his wrist from Snyder's grasp, but the man's hold only tightened. A frightened whimper escaped from Romeo as he was dragged away, and he strained against Snyder with all his might, scanning the street for his a familiar face.

"Race!" he shouted desperately. And suddenly Race was there, just out of reach.

"Help me!" Romeo begged. But Race remained where he was, a small frown on his face. "Race!" Romeo pleaded, his voice coming out as a sob. His strength was running out, and he felt himself being dragged backwards. "RACE!"

The shrill sound of a policeman's whistle filled his ears, and the street became blurry as his eyes filled with tears. "Race, I don't know what I did but I'm sorry!" he yelled, hoping Race could hear him. "You'se my brother, please just _help me!"_

* * *

"Romeo!" Race said, shaking his brother awake. The younger boy's limbs were tangled in his blanket from his tossing and turning, and he was covered in a cold sweat. "Rome, wake up, it's me!" Race said.

Romeo's dark eyes flew open, and he sat up so fast Race had to jump backwards out of the way. "Race!" he gasped.

"Hey, slow down," Race said, a note of concern in his voice. Romeo had nightmares, sure, but it had been ages since they had been this bad. "Take a minute and just breathe," he told the younger boy.

 _Don't think. Just breathe._

"Race, you're here," Romeo managed when he had calmed down. "You'se actually here."

"'Course I'm here," Race said, crouching down beside the bed. "I'm always here. Heaven knows you'se never gonna get rid a' me."

Romeo nodded, breathing in a sigh of relief. "I know," he said. "I know."

"What'd ya dream about this time?" Race asked. "Same old, same old?"

Silently, Romeo shook his head no.

"Was it about Jack bein' gone again?"

Another head shake.

"Ya folks?" Romeo had been known to dream about them on occasion. Mainly when he was feeling guilty, even though Race had assured him none of it was his fault.

"No," Romeo said, staring at the floor. He was ashamed of the real reason. He felt like he was betraying his brother, even though it was just a dream.

Lucky for him, Race sensed his change of mood and stood up. "I know a place where we can talk," he said.

* * *

"Why are we in an alley?" Romeo asked.

"'Cause," Race said, leading the way and carrying a blanket. "Don't worry, it's safe."

Romeo raised an eyebrow. "A _safe_ alley?"

"Yeah," Race said.

"A safe alley in New Yawk at night," Romeo repeated, deadpan.

Race grinned, glancing back over his shoulder. It was nice to hear Romeo make a joke. "You'se been spendin' too much time with Crutchie," he said. "You'se thinkin' ya can sass me all of a sudden."

Snugging his arms around his torso against the light breeze, Romeo grinned back.

"Anyway, we ain't stayin' in the alley," Race said, grabbing the fire escape ladder.

"Race," Romeo complained. The last thing he wanted to do was scale the side of the Lodge House at night.

"Shut up and just climb," Race said, his head appearing from somewhere above.

With a sigh bigger than you'd expect from someone his size, Romeo reached for the ladder and started up.

Race was settled in on the first platform of the fire escape. "Anythin' higher than this counts as the roof and belongs to Jack and Crutchie," he said with a goofy grin. "We coulda just stepped outta the bunk room window, but where's the fun in that?"

Romeo groaned. "Race, ya bummah," he complained, sitting down beside him.

"Here." Race arranged the blanket so it was wrapped around both of them, preventing the chill from seeping through the brick wall at their backs. "Now, what'd ya dream about? Somethin' ya don't wanna tell me, I know."

Romeo fell silent again, staring at his lap.

"Aw, c'mon, Rome," Race coaxed. "Ya can tell me anythin'. You'se told me 'bout the Refuge, 'bout Snyder, 'bout ya ma..."

"This is different!" Romeo burst out. "I dreamed... I dreamed about _you_ , Race. I was gettin' dragged off ta the Refuge by... by _him,_ and ya just stood there and _watched_. Ya didn't help me or nothin'."

For once, the Italian boy was speechless. "Start from the beginnin', Rome," he said finally. "Tell me what happened."

Romeo was quiet for a few moments, struggling to find the right words. "It was one of those days," he said. "Y'know- a bad sellin' day and a hungry day, all rolled into one. I knew you and Jack would be mad, but I decided ta pick someone's pocket. I usta be real good at it, y'know. But it turned out ta be Snyder again. He grabbed me and he was startin' ta drag me away, and I was screamin' for help. Ya saw me, and ya didn't do nothin'. And Snyder was pullin' me off somewhere, and I heard the police whistles, and ya just _stood_ there..."

He trailed off as his vision blurred with tears.

"Hey," Race said gently. He lifted Romeo's chin with one hand, using the other to wipe away his tears. "We'se is brothers, remember? Brothers don't do stuff like that. I don't know what the Race in ya dream was thinkin', but he's a big-"

"Watch it, Race," Romeo said, smiling in spite of himself. "Don't say anythin' Jack would soak ya for. I get what you'se sayin'."

"No, ya don't!" Race said earnestly. "I'll always be around ta help ya, Rome. No matter what. I'll always have your back. That's what big brothers are for."

"And I'll always have yours," Romeo said, snuggling into Race's side. "'Cause that's what little brothers are for."

The two of them stayed like that for some time, Romeo dozing off on his brother's chest with Race's arm tucked around him. Finally, Race glanced up at the sky, measuring the time. "Let's get back inside," he said, getting to his feet and lifting Romeo into his arms, blanket and all. "I don't know about you, but I don't wanna spend all night on this fire escape."

Romeo, half-asleep, didn't answer. Not until he felt his brother start to move, that is. "Can we go in the window this time?" he asked sleepily.

Race grinned. "Sure, kid," he said. "Whatevah ya want."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey y'all! This chapter was inspired by a request from DelanceyTrashcan about Romeo having another run in with Snyder. It's probably not what you had in mind, and I know you made your request awhile ago, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :) Special shoutout to SomedayonBroadway for reviewing every chapter I write, making requests, and just generally being awesome. You should go check out her stories because, like I said, she's pretty awesome.**

 **That said, I love getting reviews and requests! It's really encouraging as a writer to know that someone is reading (and enjoying!) my stories, and I'm running a bit low on requests at the moment. I don't want to run out of writing material for y'all. :) I'm open to anything, really- requests for this story, or any other Newsies story/oneshot you want me to write.**

 **I'm pretty excited about this story at the moment, because I've finally picked a direction I want to take it in after the strike. (I remember you mentioned that in a review, Marcelle. Now I know what I'm going to do, and I think it'll be pretty fun.)**

 **Love you all, and remember to read, review, favorite, follow, and keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


	11. Brooklyn

_Winter, 1896_

* * *

Racetrack Higgins was the best card player in the Lodge House. Possibly the best in Lower Manhattan. He liked to think he was the best in New York. But today, even he was out of his depth. He was winning, sure. But he had cheated to get this far, and he had a sneaking suspicion the men he was playing knew it.

 _Okay,_ he thought. _Time ta get outta here. Even if I stop now, I'se won me enough cash ta be livin' like a king for a week._

"Pleasure doin' business with ya," he said, sweeping his winnings into his cap. His two opponents -a blonde-haired man with a cigarette and a stocky, barrel-chested Irishman- glared at him simultaneously. They didn't take kindly to losing to a kid, and a cocky one at that. Race saw some unspoken message pass between the two men, and he decided it was his time to get out of there... _fast._

Clutching his cap tight in his fist, he got to his feet and pushed back his chair. The blonde stuck out a leg as he passed, causing Race to trip and sending him sprawling across the floor. "Son of a..." Race cursed, but he trailed off as the second man leaned over him. For a second he thought the Irishman was going to help him up, but then he reached into Race's sleeve and extracted a card. An ace of diamonds. Race closed his eyes. It had been years since he had been to church, but he couldn't recall a time he had prayed harder than he was right now.

"What's ta say we teach our little friend here a little lesson about cheatin'?" the blonde said, grinding his cigarette against the tabletop.

A smirk crossed the Irishman's face. "I was thinkin' the same thing myself," he said, grabbing Race's collar.

Race was panicking. Even though he was surrounded by strangers in a bar in Brooklyn, he couldn't help yelling for Jack.

* * *

Romeo hesitated at the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge. Jack said Race would be fine. Jack said Race always came back late from poker night. But Romeo knew his brother, and he knew Race wouldn't do that. Race wouldn't worry them like that, especially not with the threat of Snyder and the Refuge hanging over their heads. Taking a deep breath, Romeo squeezed his eyes shut and summoned his courage. _Jack would be furious if he knew he snuck out._ Setting his jaw determinedly, Romeo stepped onto the bridge... over the threshold of Brooklyn.

Ten minutes later, he had to admit he was lost. Race sold in Brooklyn all the time, but Romeo had never even crossed the bridge, except for those few Fourth of July parties at the docks. Besides, his brothers had been there then. He hated to admit it, but he was a little scared to face Brooklyn without them by his side.

"Hey,"a voice said roughly. "Watcha doin' in my turf?"

Romeo jumped nearly out of his skin, whirling around in the direction the voice had come from. A pair of silver eyes glittered in the dark. Romeo's heart pounded in his chest. He knew who those eyes belonged to. Jack and Race had been spooking him with stories of Brooklyn since he had first joined the newsies, and this character was always prevalent in them. The figure sauntered toward him, out of the shadows, wearing red suspenders and a gray cap, with a gold-tipped cane stuck through his belt loop. Spot Conlon.

"You'se from 'Hattan, ain't ya?" Spot said, crossing his arms. "I oughta soak ya right here and now." He snatched his cane from his belt loop, pushing the head up against Romeo's chest and shoving him hard against the wall.

"Wait!" Romeo yelped, helplessly pinned to the wall. "I'se lookin' for Race. Can ya help me?"

Spot's steely gaze softened some. "He ain't back yet?"

Wordlessly, Romeo shook his head.

The Brooklyn leader cursed under his breath, his cane leaving Romeo's chest. "He left our place hours ago," he said. "I know a bar where he plays sometimes, though. We can check there." He squinted at the younger boy, sizing him up. "You'se that kid who's always hangin' around him, ain't ya?"

Romeo nodded. "He's my brother."

That seemed good enough for Spot. "Let's go find 'im, then."

* * *

Romeo quickened his pace yet again to keep up with Spot. Not only was the other boy older and stronger, he knew Brooklyn like the back of his hand and wasted no time in combing through side streets and alleyways.

Suddenly, Spot stopped in his tracks, causing Romeo to run into him. The Brooklyn leader stood in the entrance of a narrow back alley, solidly blocking Romeo's view. "Get Kelly," he said, his voice sounding choked.

Romeo stood on tiptoe, trying to see around him. "Spot?"

"I said, go get Kelly!" Spot ordered, whirling around and shoving Romeo hard in the chest. The younger boy fell backwards, landing on his butt in the snow. "It Race," Spot added in a quieter tone.

Romeo's eyes widened. Without another word, he spun on his heel and took off in the direction of the bridge.

Spot watched him carefully for a few minutes, making sure he was headed in the right direction. Satisfied that the younger boy was a safe distance away, he stepped forward to examine Race closer. He figured Romeo must have seen Race after quite a few fights, but nothing this bad. The last thing that kid needed was to see his big brother beaten and lying in the snow.

* * *

"Jack!" Romeo shouted, bursting into the Lodge House.

The older boy was on his feet in an instant. "Romeo!" he said, taking in the kid's appearance. The younger boy was breathless and panting, staggering into the room on cold and tired feet. In spite of the cold, he had worked up a sweat. Crossing the room in two steps, Jack grabbed a fistful of Romeo's collar. "Rome, what'd I tell ya 'bout sneakin' out ta find Race? He knows his way 'round Brooklyn, he'll be fine! But you... kid, you coulda died!" He punctuated his angry words with a shake.

"Jack, I found him," Romeo said, trying to pry his shirt out of his brother's grasp.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

"In a backalley in Brooklyn," Romeo said. "I think he's hurt. Spot's with 'im now. Told me ta run for you."

Jack scowled, and Romeo couldn't tell if he was mad at him or Race... or both. "I'm gonna go get him," he said, letting go of Romeo's collar and snatching his coat off its peg on the wall.

"I'm comin' too," Romeo said stubbornly.

Jack gave the younger boy a long look, noting the glint of determination in his dark eyes. "Alright," he said finally. "Do us both a favor and try ta keep up."

* * *

Spot paced back and forth like a caged animal. He wanted to get Race out of the snow, but he didn't dare try to move him in this state. He toyed with the idea of whistling for his birds, but quickly dismissed it. What good would they be here? Pausing in his pacing, he sent a glance back at his unconscious friend. Race looked small and pale, wrapped up in Spot's coat and with his lips tinged blue. Blood stained the snow around his head, and there was enough of it on his face that Spot couldn't tell where it was coming from. He was covered in bruises, and his right arm rested at an odd angle. That was what worried Spot the most, and what made him wary of moving his friend somewhere safer.

"That kid better know what he's doin'," he muttered, glancing off in the direction of Manhattan. He expected to see nothing, like the last fifteen times he had checked, but to his relief he caught a glimpse of Jack coming around the corner. When he saw the smaller, dark-haired figure trailing along beside him, Spot swore out loud.

"I sent the kid away for a reason, Jackie-boy," he hissed, dragging Jack off to the side. "Race is in bad shape."

Jack's eyes widened as he saw his friend. "How long's he been here?" he asked, fighting to keep a straight face.

"Dunno," Spot said briefly, looking away. "The kid and I found him 'bout twenty minutes ago. He left our Lodge House 'bout two hours before that."

Jack crouched down in the snow, using a corner of his shirt to clear away some of the blood on Race's face. He was relieved to see that most of it came from a bloody nose, not anything worse. "Think he got jumped?" he asked.

Spot snorted. "Nah," he said. "He brought this on hisself. That buildin' there?" He nodded to the wall that formed half of the alleyway they stood in. "The man what runs it turns a blind eye ta kids sneakin' in. Business is business, y'know? Race usually heads there afta leavin' our place. You'se known Race 'most as long as I have, Jackie-boy, and there's two things true about him. One, he's the biggest cheater in New Yawk. And two, he'll try ta fight anyone who calls him on it."

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, standing up and kicking at a clump of ice. He immediately regretted it as the frozen slush soaked through the worn leather of his boots. "Can ya help me lift 'im?"

Spot grunted. "We'se gotta set that broken arm first."

Jack nodded. "I'll hold 'im down, you set the arm, 'kay?" he said

The two leaders positioned themselves on either side of the unconscious boy. With them out of the way, Romeo got his first glimpse of his brother. "Race..." he gasped. Jack glanced up. He had almost forgotten that Romeo was there. Wordlessly, Romeo crossed the alley to kneel beside his brother.

"We'se gonna set his arm," Jack explained to the younger boy.

"Is it gonna hurt him?" Romeo asked.

"Yeah, it'll hurt like the fires a' hell," Spot said matter-of-factly.

Jack slapped his forehead with an open palm. "Spot!"

Romeo's dark eyes were wide, but other than that he didn't react. "Do it quick, Spot," he requested.

"Right," the Brooklyn leader said, pulling the arm straight to set it.

The pain snapped Race awake, and he sat bolt upright, a string of curses on his lips.

Jack sat back on his heels, breathing a sigh of relief. "Rome, don't repeat any of that," he ordered, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Ya gave us a scare, Race."

Groaning, Race massaged is temples with his good hand. "Did I take a hit ta the head, or am I just hungover?" he asked.

"Prob'ly both," Jack said wryly. "And as soon as you'se better I'se gonna soak ya again. Race, what were ya doin' in a bar?! You'se thirteen!"

"That's my cue ta leave," Spot said, getting to his feet.

"Thanks, Spot," Jack called. "We owe ya one."

Spot waved them off. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "I'll add it ta your tab."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I have a tab?"

"Yeah," Spot said, polishing the head of his cane on his sleeve. Then he smirked. "Race has a file."

Race snorted. "Jerk. Jack, be a pal and help me up."

Jack scoffed. "Ya were unconscious a second ago! If ya think I'se gonna let ya walk all the way back ta 'Hattan then you must've taken one hit ta the head too many."

"I can help ya, Race," Romeo said, eager to help his big brother.

Race winced as he got to his feet, carefully testing out his shaky legs. "I might take ya up on that," he said. "Say, Rome, what're ya doin' in Brooklyn? Thought you was scared ta death a' this place."

"Thanks ta you and Jack!" Romeo protested, grunting as Race leaned some of his weight onto him.

Jack immediately stepped in, supporting Race's other side and turning them in the direction of Manhattan. "Lay off, Race," he said. "Romeo's the one who found ya here. You'se alive thanks ta him."

Race's face showed his surprise. "Really?" He grinned, ruffling his baby brother's hair. "Thanks, kid. I owe ya one."

Romeo grinned. "I'll add it to your tab," he said, in his best Spot Conlon impression.

Race and Jack burst out laughing. "Spot on, kid," Race gasped.

Jack shook his head, still laughing in spite of himself. "The two of ya, makin' fun of Spot all the time," he said. "You'se is lucky ya don't get soaked."

Romeo grinned, feeling a sense of contentment as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

* * *

"Shh," Jack cautioned as they came through the door to the Lodge House. "There are boys sleepin' upstairs. Race, come on with me. I'se gonna get ya fixed up. Not you," he added when Romeo started to follow. "Ya look dead on ya feet, kid. Head on up ta bed."

Romeo was too tired to protest. As he headed upstairs, Race flopped down on one of the couches. His broken arm was still wrapped up in Spot's jacket. "Here," Jack said. He sorted through their makeshift medicine closet and found a few long strips of cloth. "Let's wrap up that arm and wash the blood off ya face. Anythin' else 'sides that?"

"Just a bunch a' bruises," Race said with a shrug.

"Serves ya right," Jack muttered. "Y'know, I was gonna soak ya myself, 'til I saw how beat up ya were."

"Hey!" Race protested.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me ya don't think ya deserve it," he said, tossing Spot's coat aside.

Race was uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes. "Yeah, I guess I do," he said finally.

Jack glanced up from wrapping Race's arm. "So somethin' finally got through that thick skull a' yours," he said. "What was it, the broken arm or the twenty punches ta the face?"

Race ignored his sarcasm. He knew Jack was on edge, and honestly, he couldn't blame him. "It was Romeo," he said quietly. "Kid's terrified a' Brooklyn. But he came down there for me, and he got Spot's help ta boot. Spot don't help no one, ever." He bit his lip, contemplating his next words. "If someone'd go ta that much trouble ta save my skin, I prob'ly shouldn't be riskin' it in stupid stunts like this one."

"Good thinkin'," Jack said appraisingly. He knotted the cloth behind the Italian's neck, fashioning a sort of sling to keep the arm snug against his chest.

Race let out a hiss of pain. "Easy, Cowboy," he said.

Jack shook his head with a grin. "C'mon. Let's head up ta bed."

Upstairs, Jack gave Race a boost up onto the top bunk, not trusting him to manage it with one arm. "G'night, Racer," he said, brushing back the Italian's messy curls and kissing his forehead.

"Night, Jack," Race whispered back.

* * *

The next morning, Jack woke up his boys as usual. They got ready as they always did, joking and laughing and jostling each other for space, but when Jack led them outside there was a surprise waiting. A scrap of paper was pinned to the rough wood of the front door, held in place with a jackknife.

Jack read the message silently, then handed it to Race with a grin. "It's for you," he said.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Race made a grab for the paper. A brief note was scrawled on it in pencil.

 _Race,_

 _Ya still have my coat, ya idiot. Rest up and bring it back to me tomorra. It's cold, I need it. Don't do anythin' stupid, and make sure ya thank that kid a' yours. He's got guts._

 _-Spot_

Race grinned and stuck the note in his pocket. "Hey, Romeo!" he called. When the ten-year-old looked up, Race held out his good arm for a hug. With a smile, Romeo ran to Race's side and threw his arms around the older boy's waist, burying his face in his chest. Race brushed the younger boy's dark hair back, flicking a stubborn lock out of his eyes. "Thanks, kid," he said. "I guess I owe ya one this time."

Romeo grinned up at him. "Nah," he said. "We're even."

* * *

 **(A/N): Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated for so long, school has been reaaally crazy lately. College, man. I hope you liked this chapter! Lots of Hurt!Race and big brother Jack. I swear, Spot wasn't supposed to be in this chapter as much as he was. He just manages to sneak into whatever I'm writing. Special thanks to SomedayonBroadway for giving me the request that inspired this chapter! Her stories are amazing, you should go check them out. (Lots more Hurt!Race and big brother Jack!) And I would love some more requests, guys. The more requests I get, the faster I can put out chapters for y'all.**

 **If you're out there and you're reading my stories, please REVIEW! Reviews are super encouraging as a writer and it absolutely makes my day every time I get one. Love you guys! Keep carryin' the banner!**

 **-Peggs**


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